


Matches in the Snow

by DelphiPsmith



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cats, Fairy Tale Retellings, Gen, Hans Christian Anderson, Hogwarts Letters, Kittens, Little Match Girl - Freeform, New Year's Eve, Orphans, Romani Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-15
Updated: 2015-01-15
Packaged: 2018-03-07 15:35:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3176861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DelphiPsmith/pseuds/DelphiPsmith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes it takes more than just a letter to get someone to Hogwarts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Matches in the Snow

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2014 [hoggywartyxmas](http://hoggywartyxmas.livejournal.com). Thanks to [miss_morland](http://miss_morland.livejournal.com) for an [inspiring prompt](http://hoggywartyxmas.livejournal.com/41289.html?thread=1397833#t1397833), and to [dueltastic](http://dueltastic.dreamwidth.org) who said "OH GOD SOMEONE PLEASE FIX "THE LITTLE MATCH GIRL" IT IS TRAGIC."

-*-*-*-*-*-

Kezia was trudging through the alley leading back to her usual nightly hiding place when she found the box half-buried under the fast-falling snow.

Kezia had always loved snow. She still thought it was beautiful, but tonight -- alone and with no home to go to -- it frightened her a little, the way it just kept coming, softly, quietly, implacably. She was shivering and stumbling from cold and exhaustion; the streets were full of New Year's Eve revelers and she had been bumped, elbowed, and knocked down more times than she could count, the last time landing in a puddle of icy slush that had soaked the sleeve of her threadbare coat.

The tape sealing the box had been cut, but when she shook it gently she could tell it was full. She huffed warm breath on her numb fingers to bring them back to life, wishing again that she had a pair of gloves, then gingerly pulled back the flaps and peeked inside. For a moment she thought the box was full of fireflies, then she realized it was the streetlight glittering on dozens of clear plastic packages.

She took one of the packages out of the box and examined its contents through its crinkly wrapping: a cigarette lighter, the barrel printed in a swirl of psychedelic colors. She turned it back and forth, admiring the lively designs of hot pink and neon green, bright yellow and indigo, then put it in her pocket. Bending forward, she rifled through the rest of the box, burrowing all the way to the bottom, but found nothing but lighters, dozens of them, all different patterns and colors.

She sat back on her heels, ignoring the cold creeping through her thin shoes. Maybe she could sell them and make enough to buy some food? Lots of people still smoked even though it was expensive and bad for you. She cupped her hands in front of her face and exhaled gently into them to create a tiny space of warm air to thaw her reddened nose, then filled her pockets with several dozen of the little packets and headed back out towards the busy street.

She found a spot on the pavement outside a kebab shop. The smell of grilled meat was a sweet torture to the hungry little girl, but she wanted to be close enough to nip inside as soon as she had some money in her hand.

"Buy my lighters?" she called out to the passersby. "Need a lighter, lady? Sir? Only 50p..."

But no one stopped. And no one, not even Kezia, noticed the small cream-colored square fluttering in the bitter wind above her head.

-*-*-*-*-*-

Kingsley Shacklebolt ladled himself a large-ish mug of punch from the wide silver bowl on the table. He took a sip, then pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.

"Well?" said Pomona, who was watching him closely from the other side of the bowl. "What do you think?"

Kingsley rolled the punch around in his mouth, then swallowed. "I would have to say..." He paused, and Pomona waited anxiously. "Yes, I would have to say it's your best Hogmanay Punch ever, Pomona. Even better than last year."

"I should hope so!" Pomona said with great satisfaction. "Best cranberries I've ever grown, and Aberforth brought the oranges straight from Brazil. They were still warm from the sun when I juiced them." She leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, "And of course Minerva brought the booze. Quality stuff."

Kingsley raised his glass in acknowledgement, then glanced around the room. It was a small but congenial group who had gathered to celebrate the new year: Hogwarts faculty and staff, past and present, and a few select invitees such as himself. "But where is Minerva? I expected her to be one of the first ones here."

"I believe she's up in her office," said Slughorn, coming up beside him and reaching for a third slice of apple cake and several pieces of Scottish tablet. "She had one or two Hogwarts acceptance letters to send out." He took a handful of crystallized pineapple from a bowl whose depleted state suggested he'd been there several times before.

"But surely that was ages ago," Pomona said. "And it only takes a few minutes. Kingsley, why don't you go up and see what's keeping her? And tell her if she's not here for our midnight kiss, she'd better have a damn good excuse."

-*-*-*-*-*-

Kezia couldn't remember ever having been so cold. Her small body ached from muscles pulled tight from shivering for hours on end, and her fingers were stiff and clumsy. She'd sold one lighter, to a man whose girlfriend urged him to buy it, but he'd snatched the 50p back when the lighter quit working after the third flick and called her a thieving gypsy, which made her cry. She hadn't known the lighters were defective, although now she guessed why someone had thrown out the whole box.

Now she was huddled in her hiding spot, really nothing more than an unsheltered corner between two buildings, trying to stretch her too-small coat to cover her drawn-up legs. She liked this corner because the way the two buildings met, it was tucked out of sight -- no one passing by on the street could see her. She felt safe here. Not as safe as she used to in Gran's caravan, but at least no one would bother her here.

A small furry body nudged up against her, and she pulled a chilled hand out of her pocket to scratch the scrawny grey-and-white kitten behind the ears. "I wish I had a fur coat like you, Smudge," she said softly.

The kitten made a peremptory "Mrrrrrt!" and butted her hand again.

Kezia smiled. "Okay, okay." She put her hand back into her pocket and pulled out a tiny piece of chicken. The shop owner given her a half a chicken kebab before telling her brusquely to "Move along," and hungry as she was, she'd saved this little tidbit for her furry friend. "Here you go." She set it down on the snow and the kitten pounced, making short work of the morsel.

Finished, he licked his lips and looked up at her expectantly. "Sorry, that's all I've got," she said sadly. As though in sympathy, her stomach growled loudly. "Last year for my birthday Gran made _janija_ ," she told the kitten. "And there was cake." A tear rolled down her cheek and she brushed it away with a sniff. If Gran hadn't died, Kezia would be in her nice warm caravan tonight, with its smells of spices and tea...

Kezia sighed and rested her forehead on her knees, dark hair falling on either side like a black curtain. She'd been hungry for so long, too. She tucked her hands, blue with cold, under her chin and closed her eyes. She knew it was too cold and she needed to find someplace to stay, or at least keep moving, but she was so tired. _Just for a minute_ , she thought...

She didn't stir when a heavy, cream-colored envelope with green lettering swooped out of the air and fluttered just above her head. It circled her several times, dodging the acquisitive paws of the interested kitten, then hovered, emitting a definite air of _worry_. After a moment it darted up and away into the cold December sky.

-*-*-*-*-*-

"You see what I mean, Kingsley?" Minerva and Kingsley stood in the Headmistress' office, gazing at the letter. It really was behaving most strangely: swooping to the open window, hesitating, then zooming back and circling Minerva's head.

Kingsley stroked his chin thoughtfully, watching the aerial acrobatics. "You say it went out with the other two as usual?"

"Yes, earlier this evening. Which is what makes it so strange. If the recipient is no longer living, the letter simply won't go out, but this one did. And if a letter fails to reach the recipient, it doesn't come back. Instead two new letters get generated, to increase the chances of reaching their target." She gave a small smile. "Remember how many letters went out to Harry?"

Kingsley grinned. "Oh, yes. I think that might have been a record."

"But I've never had _this_ happen!" The letter zipped back towards her, nearly snagging the neat bun of hair atop her head, and she batted at it in irritation. "Drat the thing."

"You never had a dog, did you, Minerva?"

She fixed him with a gimlet eye. "No, Kingsley, I'm more of a cat person."

Kingsley laughed. "Of course. Well, if you had, you'd know exactly what it's doing."

"Well? Are you going to tell me, or make me guess?"

"Oh come on, Minerva. Going to the window as if it _wants_ to leave, then coming back and circling you, then going to the window again? Clearly, it wants you to follow it. If it were a dog, it would have its teeth set in the hem of your skirt and be tugging."

Minerva frowned. "Follow it? Follow it where? And why?"

"As to where..." Kingsley poised himself and as the envelope returned on its circuit he made a quick grab, snatching it out of the air. He turned it over. "Kezia Tansey, Corner of Two Buildings Near the Cathedral, City Centre, Sheffield."

"Sheffield!"

"And as to why, I suppose we won't know until we get there." He tucked the letter into his pocket, where it rustled gently but remained quiescent, as if it knew it had achieved its goal.

Minerva sighed, picked up a tartan scarf, wrapped it around her neck, and pulled on a pair of thick, warm gloves. "I'm glad you said 'we', Kingsley. I should hate to be out in a crowd of Muggles on New Year's Eve alone."

-*-*-*-*-*-

The cathedral bells striking eleven roused Kezia from her doze. When she put her fingers to her cheeks they felt like cubes of ice, and looking around she realized she was surrounded by a little wall of snow that had accumulated around her. She looked straight up into the sky. The wind had died, and for a moment the black sky and the falling white flakes made her feel as if she were rising upwards into the stillness.

Smudge was curled up on her feet, nose tucked under his tail, and she tried to pretend that he was warming her toes, but the truth was she could no longer feel them. A violent shiver wracked her body, and a crackling noise from her pocket reminded her of the lighters. It would be nice to see the cheery glow of a flame, even a little one. She pulled one of the packages out of her pocket. Her numb fingers couldn't grip the wrapping so she tore it open with her teeth, and the lighter fell into her lap. She picked it up and flicked the little wheel. 

A bright golden flame appeared, and as Kezia gazed into it a picture formed: a room hung with tapestries in red and gold, with a warm fire blazing cheerfully on the hearth. The room was large but cozy and homelike, with soft rugs on the floor and a deep squashy sofa drawn up invitingly before the fire. She could almost feel the heat of the flames, soaking into her bones and relaxing the icy chill that had gripped her for so long. Then the light went out, and the bleak corner seemed even darker and colder than before. Kezia flicked the lighter again, but it was dead.

Quickly she brought out another, tore open the wrapping, and spun the wheel, staring eagerly into the little flame. This time she saw a huge evergreen tree, so tall its tip scraped the ceiling, draped in gold and silver garland and sparkling with the most beautiful ornaments Kezia had ever seen. Three lines of rosy, happy children in black robes stood in front of it, their mouths moving in song, directed by a tiny energetic little man in a black tie and tails. Kezia strained her ears and for a moment she heard a faint echo of music and smelled the spicy scent of pine and fir. Then the little flame died, and she was alone again.

She couldn't feel her fingers at all now, and it took several tries before the flint caught, but when it did it flared up even larger and brighter than before. In its depths Kezia saw a great hall with hundreds of candles floating above four long white-draped tables covered with every kind of wonderful food: tureens of soup, platters heaped with sausages, roast chicken smoking hot, mugs of chocolate and tea...she stared longingly at the vision before her and took a long, ecstatic sniff, smelling the rich aromas.

And the flame went out, and the indifferent dark and the freezing cold returned.

With a desolate cry Kezia dropped the lighter and scrabbled another from her pocket. Then she hesitated. What did it matter? The light would just go out again. It wasn't real.

Slowly she put down the lighter, bowed her head, and closed her eyes.

-*-*-*-*-*-

Minerva and Kingsley Apparated into a deserted corner behind Sheffield Cathedral, into the middle of a drift of heavy, wet snow.

"Brrr." Minerva pulled her heavy tartan cloak closer around her. "It isn't a fit night out for man nor beast."

Kingsley reached into his pocket and took out the letter. "Let's see if we can solve this quickly, then." The moment his fingers released their grip, the square of parchment leaped into the air and spun excitedly, then darted off. Minerva and Kingsley exchanged a glance, then moved swiftly to follow it.

Twirling briskly in the still, cold air above their heads, the letter led them around the Cathedral and towards the city. The streets became noisier and more crowded the closer they got to the city centre, and the two of them struggled to keep both each other and the letter in sight. Fortunately the air was filled with streamers and confetti, and none of the Muggles seemed to notice the one piece of flotsam that moved of its own volition.

They had gone perhaps two blocks when the letter took a sudden dodge to the right, down a narrow alley where fresh snow lay in unbroken white curves. Minerva and Kingsley followed.

-*-*-*-*-*-

Smudge woke suddenly, as cats are wont to do, going from deep sleep to wide-eyed alert in a whisker of a second. He squirmed closer to the girl, who was lying curled on her side now, but she didn't reach down a hand to pet him as she usually did. Uneasy, he moved up to her face and sniffed delicately, his nose touching hers, then reached out and patted her ear with a gentle paw. There were ice crystals on her lashes, and her black hair was hidden under a veil of snow. He mewed anxiously and bumped his head against her cheek, but she didn't stir. She was so cold!

He began to pace, uncertain what to do. Suddenly he froze, ears pricked alertly. Slowly he turned and look towards the corner that led to the street. Something was coming. Two somethings. He sniffed the air. They were CAT, and yet NOT CAT. What were they?

-*-*-*-*-*-

The letter, which until now had moved with a purposeful air, hesitated and then slowed to a stop. Minerva and Kingsley caught up and stood beneath it, their breath pluming in the frozen stillness, and as they watched it sank lower, giving off an unmistakable air of disappointment and sadness.

"Why did it stop?" Minerva glanced back at the busy street behind them, then ahead where the snow made a thick white blanket. "I don't see anything, and it doesn't look like anyone has been here in hours."

Kingsley shook his head. "I don't know. Maybe the person was here earlier, and the letter just got confused?"

Minerva snorted. "Hogwarts acceptance letters don't get confused, Kingsley."

-*-*-*-*-*-

Smudge poked his head around the corner, then drew back a little. This was very puzzling. All he saw were two humans: a tall, thin, pale one, and a large black one. Definitely NOT CAT. And yet overlaying each of them, or shining out from inside, or something, was very definitely CAT. He hesitated, fearful. What if they were the kind of humans that shouted and threw things? He'd met quite a few of those. But no. Not only was there CAT here, there was KIND. He could feel it. Maybe they would help the girl.

Smudge stepped out from behind the wall. "Mrrrt?" he said with a flick of his tail, and the lynx-man and the tabby cat-woman turned and saw him.

-*-*-*-*-*-

Kezia felt herself waking up and fought to stay asleep. She had been having the most wonderful dream: a woman with a kind face was bending over her, and then someone had picked her up from her frozen nest in the snow and carried her in strong arms, murmuring comforting words in a deep voice that rumbled in his chest.

"Oh, I don't want to wake up," she murmured. "Please..."

A gentle hand touched her forehead. "It’s all right, my dear," a soft voice said, and she opened her eyes to see a grey-haired woman in a white cap bending over her. "Don't be afraid. You're safe."

Kezia wasn't at all sure that she _was_ awake. She was lying on a soft bed in a dim, warm room, with a feather coverlet pulled up to her chin. She wriggled her fingers and toes, luxuriating in being able to do so comfortably and without her bones feeling as if they were made of ice. "Where am I?"

The grey-haired woman stood up and turned towards the door. "She's awake, Minerva. Would you like to speak to her?"

"Thank you, Poppy," a woman's voice said.

Kezia heard two sets of footsteps, and when she looked up she saw beside her bed the two faces from her dream: the woman, robed in dark green, her face pale and thin with sharp yet kindly eyes, and the tall, broad-shouldered man with skin like dark chocolate wearing long purple robes.

"Well, how is our little foundling?" the man said with a smile.

"You're the one who carried me," Kezia said, remembering. "I felt your voice in your chest."

He gave a small bow. "Kingsley Shacklebolt, at your service. And this is Professor Minerva McGonagall."

"And you--" Kezia looked at the woman. "You're the one who found me."

The woman nodded. "It was a near thing, though, my dear. We were very nearly too late. But thanks to your Hogwarts letter and your little kitten--"

"Smudge!" Kezia cried out, sitting up. "Oh please, I have to go back for him!"

The woman pointed to the foot of the bed. "No need."

Kezia's heart gave a leap of joy as she saw the furry grey-and-white form curled up at her feet. "Oh, thank you!" At the sound of her voice the kitten raised his head and gave an enormous yawn, showing needle-sharp teeth and a tongue like a pink leaf. He looked rather pleased with himself. Then the rest of the woman's words penetrated Kezia's mind. "What is a...Hogwarts letter, please?"

Kingsley took a square of parchment from the pocket of his robes and handed it to her. "I think this belongs to you," he said.

She turned it wonderingly in her fingers. On the front, curly lettering in green ink read, "Kezia Tansey, Second Bed on the Left, Hospital Wing, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"Welcome, Kezia," Minerva said. "We're so glad to have you with us."


End file.
